


The Only Love I'll Ever Need

by castielsangel_x



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Reunions, Romance, mentions of Danny Pink - Freeform, spoilers for Death in Heaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 21:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2596343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielsangel_x/pseuds/castielsangel_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two lonely souls reunite. Twelve/Clara</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Love I'll Ever Need

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think I have Capaldi's Doctor quite right yet but I'll leave that for you guys to decide. First venture into this pairing. Enjoy.

** The Only Love I’ll Ever Need **

**Summary** : Danny Pink is dead. Gallifrey is lost. Two lonely souls reunite. Twelve/Clara.

**-x-**

The sound of the silence around her was deafening. Her flat seemed cold, almost feeling like it didn’t belong to her anymore as she sat huddled in the corner of her sofa, knees tucked up to her chin. She sighed, the sound seeming to echo around her. It had been weeks since it happened. Since Missy, since the Cybermen, since ... since Danny died to save them. Since the Doctor went back home to Gallifrey. The worst part? Lying to the Doctor that Danny was alive and well, that she was happy. She wasn’t.

Everyone knew Danny was gone. They had had a service at school for him, Clara feeling eyes on her from every corner of the assembly hall. Teachers and students alike had offered condolences, making Clara lock herself in her classroom during free periods and lunch breaks, crying to herself at her desk. She knew it was better to get everything out but once it started, she couldn’t seem to stop sometimes. She had loved him in a way, but then maybe she tried to convince herself too much. Then there was the Doctor. He had gone home, thinking that she was happy with Danny at home, that she didn’t _need_ him anymore. But that was far from the truth. She needed him more than the very air she breathed. She needed to tell him she lied and that she couldn’t be on her own. She wanted to take him in her arms, despite his phobia from hugging, and hold him; she wanted to kiss him and beg him never to leave her alone again; wanted to tell him how she cared from him, just as much as she had cared for his previous self. Shaking herself from her trance, she noticed she had picked up her phone and found his number, her finger hovering above the dial button. She cancelled quickly and threw the phone down on the sofa, getting up and making for her bedroom, knowing another sleepless night was ahead. Another night of crying into her pillow, knowing that the men she held dearest in her heart were nowhere around to comfort her. She was alone.

That was when she heard it. Those familiar engines she always listened out for, even when she didn’t realise she was doing it. It sounded further away than usual but she felt the familiar breeze as the TARDIS landed in her bedroom, making her room suddenly smaller. She wiped away a stray tear when the box materialised completely, showing that he was here with her again. She stared at the familiar box, pulling her robe closed over her pyjamas as she approached it. Just as she reached out for the handle, the door opened and there he stood. He wore his usual attire, black jumper with his black jacket and trousers, a small hint of red showing from the inside lining. He looked down at her, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Clara.”

God, that voice. How she had missed that voice, that accent. She swallowed hard, not trusting her own. She tried to will the tears away.

“Doctor,” she croaked out, before clearing her throat and quickly wiping at her eyes before it became obvious she was about to cry. He smiled down at her gently before stepping from the TARDIS.

“I didn’t know if now would be a good time to come to you, just in case you and P.E were busy. I didn’t want to intrude,” he said, looking down at his sleeves, playing with a thread there. Clara closed her eyes at the mention of Danny, not wanting to look at the Doctor. “I just wanted to see you.” He said it in almost a whisper that Clara had to make sure she wasn’t hearing things.

“It is lovely to see you, Doctor,” she said, reaching out to take his hand. “Come on, I’ll make you some tea.” She pulled him from her bedroom to the living room and offered him a seat before she went to put the kettle on. She sighed deeply and began to make him some tea, her hands shaking and heart beating so fast that a mug slipped from between her fingers when she wasn’t paying attention and hit the floor with an almighty smash. Clara gasped before placing her hands on the countertop for balance, holding herself up as the tears began to flow.

“Clara?” came his voice as he entered the kitchen.

“I’m fine, Doctor,” she said. “The cup slipped and ...”

“Clara, where’s Danny?” he asked, almost calmly. Clara sniffed hard, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. She looked at the bracelet on her wrist, touched it gently, before she turned to him. The concern in his eyes was overwhelming. He looked heartbroken for her which was not in his nature at all. “Clara?” he repeated.

“Danny is dead, Doctor. He didn’t come back,” she said through her tears. “I lied to you. He told me he had promises to keep and that he was sorry.” She felt the rage bubbling inside her. “He said he was _sorry_.” She pulled the bracelet from her wrist and she threw it to the floor suddenly, the Doctor staying exactly where he was as it bounced on the floor towards him, stopping at his feet. “What the _hell_ am I supposed to do with _sorry_ when he’s dead?” Clara felt herself break down in front of him, her legs give in beneath her when all of a sudden his arms were round her and he was on the ground with her, narrowly missing the shattered remnants of the mug she had dropped. She clung to his jacket in her fists, sobbing into the soft material. “I am so alone, Doctor.”

“No, you are never alone, Clara Oswald,” he said into her hair. “Do you hear me?” She nodded against his shoulder. They sat there on the kitchen floor, huddled together, Clara not wanting to let him go, even though she could feel how tense he was against her. “I ...” he started before he paused, Clara pulling back to wipe her eyes again, holding onto the Doctor’s hand with her free one. “I lied too.” The silence in the air was thick as they stared at each other.

“What do you mean?” she asked. He swallowed hard, looking down at their hands clasped together in his lap.

“The co-ordinates Missy gave to me. There was nothing there, Clara. No Gallifrey. Just blackness,” he said gently. “I lied because I thought, because Danny was back, you wouldn’t want me hanging around you anymore. I’m a mad old man with a blue box who has nothing better to do than hang around Earth and wait for you to want to travel. But you were having a life with him and I was being selfish. I wanted you to myself and I couldn’t have you.” Those words struck a chord in Clara. She squeezed his hand gently, the other one coming up to touch his face gently.

“Say that again,” she pleaded, the backs of her fingers trailing across a prominent cheekbone.

“I wanted you to myself and I couldn’t have you,” he said, a little quieter than before.

“Why can’t you?” she asked. The Doctor made to stand, pulling Clara to her feet too, their bodies mere inches from each other. He was silent for the moment. “Why didn’t you tell me about Gallifrey?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Danny?” he fired back at her. “Even playing field, I think.” Clara sighed and nodded. “You are mourning him, Clara. I can’t expect you to want to come with me again, no matter how selfish I want to be and take you with me.”

“What are you saying, Doctor?” she asked, slightly confused. Until the Doctor stepped forward, bent down and placed his lips on hers. Clara was taken aback, frozen on the spot until he pushed forward a little and her lips slackened, accepting the kiss right there in the middle of her kitchen. Her hands came up to cup his face, one sliding further back into his silver hair, gripping the short strands in her fingers gently. But it was all over too soon and he was stepping back from her, watching her intently. Clara brought her fingers up to her lips and touched them gently, feeling the warmth from his lips still upon hers.

“I am saying that I want you to travel with me again. I am a lonely old Time Lord in need of a companion,” he said. “And I would like it to be you. You are the only one I want with me, Clara, and please never think any different. I want you with me for as long as you want to be, which I hope will be a long time.” Clara felt tears coming to her eyes again, once more wiping them with her robe sleeve. “I never get this sentimental, woman. Make a decision. You’re killing me.” He smiled gently as she chuckled through her tears.

“I’ll come with you again,” she said. “But let me sleep here tonight. I haven’t slept properly in weeks. I would like to do so in the comfort of my own bed.” He nodded.

“Understood,” he said. “I shall go and come back tomorrow.” She grabbed his hand, making him turn to her.

“Stay with me, please,” she asked gently. “I would like very much if you would lie with me.” She watched him swallow hard and look like he was having an internal struggle with himself before he nodded. Clara moved in once more and pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth, ever so gently, but he turned his head and caught her lips fully once more. She felt as though an electric surge moved through her body, as if the weight of the world was finally gone from her shoulders. His hands slid inside her robe and round her back, pulling her into his body. Clara kissed him back soundly, savouring every feeling going through her body. His hands were cool through her t-shirt, yet his body pressed against hers seemed warmer. She pulled back again and placed a kiss under his chin.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” she whispered.

“Clara, I ...” he started but she put her finger to his lips.

“Shh, there’s time for that later.” She caressed his face lightly. “Thank you for coming back to me,” she said. He felt himself smile and he nodded, his own hand coming up instinctively to brush her hair back from her face. His thumb wiped at a stray tear clinging to her eyelashes.

“I’ll always come back.”


End file.
